Higher and Higher
by Shira Lansys
Summary: James has less-than-cousinly feelings towards Hugo, and all it takes is a bottle of firewhiskey to reveal them. But once everything's said and done, what will happen the morning after? Warning: JamesHugo, lemon, COUSINCEST. Flames welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: Contains slash (two males in a relationship), graphic descriptions of underage sex (a seventeen year old having sex with a fifteen year old), underage drinking, and an incestuous relationship. If any of these things offend you or you do not wish to read them, CLICK THE BACK BUTTON. **

**Higher and Higher**

**Chapter One**

_Come on, get higher,  
>Loosen my lips,<br>Faith and desire at the swing of your hips,  
>Just pull me down hard,<br>And drown me in love_

Matt Nathanson - Come On Get Higher

That burning-red hair, those innocent blue eyes… always drawing his attention, making his eyes fix on his little cousin. His baby cousin. The cousin he'd played with when he was a baby. The same on that had followed him around like a little lost duckling, forever in awe of James' achievements on the Quidditch pitch, or his joking manner, or his latest prank. Those admirable, doting eyes that saw him as, well, a bit of an older brother, really. Someone to look up to. Perhaps even ask for guidance with his latest girl issue, when he reached that age.

And he had reached that age. James felt like a paedophile or a sexual predator or some other disgusting lowlife for noticing, but how could he help it? _'Just like you can't help your stomach dropping every time he wrestles with you,' _he thought to himself with no small amount of self disgust. _'Just how it's totally his fault that sometimes you wake up with messed sheets from a dream where he was anything but your baby cousin.'_

It was the dreams that James hated the most. The rest of his feelings - the swooping sensations, the way his mood swung according to whether or not Hugo was around, the sudden shyness when talking to him - were all relatively innocent. A phase, a moment of confusion, and something he'd grow out of. But the dreams… they were sick.

* * *

><p>"James," Hugo called. An innocent yell between two good friends - all the Weasley-Potter-Scamander-Lupin clan was close, despite the age gaps. It was just how they were.<p>

An innocent yell, but something that James shouldn't have heard if he wasn't… how he was. Hugo was too far away, and James engrossed in his conversation. Or, at least, he was supposed to be. But to be honest, he never paid as much attention to anything as he should - unless it was Hugo. So when he heard that honey-sweet voice call across the field his head turned immediately.

His obsession was unhealthy, and James knew it. And it was laughable that the obsession part wasn't even the worst of it. It was an _incestuous _obsession. The very word was repulsive and almost made him physically shudder. It briefly crossed his mind that he should repeat it to himself over and over again as punishment for what he thought sometimes, but he couldn't. Hugo was approaching, and he had to talk to him.

"Sorry mate," James said cheerfully to Davies. "Family calls. I bet Rose has broken up with her boyfriend again or something. But I really liked those strategy ideas. We'll go through them next practice and we can decide which ones to present to the team."

He was lying through his teeth - the ideas were crap. But James was confident that he could tweak them enough to make them work, and still convince Davies that he'd come up with all the ideas. And then he didn't have to offend his teammate _or _worry about dealing with the bother that would come with telling the truth.

Davie grinned, happy with the praise, and made his way back to the changing rooms, and James briefly contemplated how much his life had turned into a lie these days. It was easier than breathing most of the time.

"James," Hugo panted, and he realised the flame-haired boy had jogged most of the way. James grinned and punched his arm.

"You're getting unfit there, man," James laughed, ignoring the sudden euphoria that came from spending time around the person he thought of twenty-four-seven. "Shame on you."

"I am not!" Hugo protested, his voice (mostly) sincere and his eyes wide and innocent.

James smiled. "I'm only pulling your leg," he informed the younger boy as they began to walk back towards the castle together. "Anyway, what were you after?"

Hugo's eyes brightened as he remembered what he'd come for. "Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur've sent your birthday present early," he said, his breath returning quickly. "You'd better get back to the common room before Albus convinces Lily to open it without you."

James laughed. "Let them. I already know what it is, and it's probably better that we're not there anyway."

Hugo looked confused. "What? Why?"

James grinned. "It's not a birthday present," he said cryptically.

"Sure it is. It was wrapped in birthday paper."

"It's not. And it's not from Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, either. Do you think _our _aunt would have _any _present sent so that it arrives any time but the receiver's birthday? I'm not seventeen for another week."

"Then what is it?" Hugo was clearly confused, but he trusted his older cousin without reserve, and his face was open and believing. James felt a pang in his heart.

"It's from Uncle George." His voice was nonchalant, not giving away his inner turmoil. "It'll be a prank, in revenge for my last… parcel. Trust me; whatever it is, we don't want to be there when it's opened."

"Oh." Hugo had a small frown on his face that had James grinning like an idiot at its cuteness. He quickly rearranged his features. "Then where are we going?"

James thought about it for a moment. "Say, Hugo…," he said slowly. "How old are you?" The question was pointless - Hugo was fifteen, and James knew it. Almost two years younger than he was… the thought made him feel even more disgusting that he already did.

"Fifteen," Hugo replied. "Why?"

James allowed a devilish smirk to creep over his face. "Have you ever gotten drunk before?"

* * *

><p>Hugo was so adorable with flushed cheeks, James thought to himself idly. And the way his younger cousin was all over the place, not noticing that he was touching James more than normal, and that James was touching him more than normal, really set his heart racing. <em>'I really should get him drunk more often,' <em>James thought to himself.

And now that he thought about it, he should get _himself _drunk more often. Everything was so much… easier, when the curtain that was intoxication had fallen over his mind. He wasn't constantly second guessing his actions, and he wasn't beating himself up every time he noticed something beautiful about Hugo that was really not a thought that one cousin should have about another. It was a relief, and James revelled in it.

The two were in the Room of Requirement where James had a secret liquor stash that he mainly used to sneak into Gryffindor parties (once all the younger students had gone to bed). They were sitting on a red sofa, drinking out of the same bottle.

"I got something to tell you," Hugo said, leaning his head on James' shoulder. His voice was slightly slurred, and it took James a few moments to think past the alcohol fogging up his mind.

"Hmm?" he said dumbly. "What is it then?"

"Can't tell you."

"But you said you had something to tell me."

"Can't though. Want to, but can't."

"Why not?" James' curiosity was aroused now.

"You'll hate me." Hugo's voice was pathetically small, and pulled at James' heart. He wouldn't raise his eyes to meet his cousins.

"I'd never hate you," James said instantly. His arm tightened around Hugo's shoulders. "What can't you tell me?"

"I…," Hugo began, and then looked away. James nudged him. "I'm gay," he blurted. The way he said 'gay' made it sound like a horrible word and, as soon as he'd said it, he looked at the ground as though scared to see James' reaction.

"Oh," was all James could think to say.

It was a stupid reaction - of course he didn't have a problem with his little cousin being gay. It would be a little hypocritical, to start with. But what else was there to say? 'It's okay to be gay'? It seemed a little cheesy, at best.

Not to mention he was busy inwardly crushing the bubble of hope that was ballooning in his chest. Hugo had said that he was gay, not that he wanted a gay incestuous relationship with his cousin. There was no need for him to suddenly feel so happy.

Hugo rose abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'll go…."

"No," James said quickly, grabbing his wrist. "It's okay. I don't care. I think… I think I might be, as well."

Now that was an outright lie; by this point in time, James was pretty certain that he was. But it seemed like the best way to say it at the time.

And then something happened that would alter both their lives forever. Then Hugo kissed James.

One moment, the two of them are facing each other (with very moist eyes) and then they were far too close and he could feel Hugo's breath on his face and their lips were pressed together and….

The kiss wasn't as slow or as smooth as James would have expected. He'd be lying if he'd said he hadn't fantasized about it, and he did have _some _experience kissing girls from way back when he was going through a sexuality crisis. He'd thought it would be soft and gentle - well, it was both of those things. But it was so much _more_. It was clumsy and hurried, partly from excitement and partly from the alcohol, and it was as though someone had set off Uncle George's fireworks in his body. It was amazing.

But it was so, so wrong. He had no choice; he pulled back. "Stop," he panted out to Hugo. "We can't."

Hugo pressed forwards. "Please James," he whispered, his eyelashes fluttering, his hand crawling up to rest on James' chest, muscled and toned from years of Quidditch. "I need this."

He moved closer, leaning in for a kiss. James didn't have the balls to shove him off, but he moved his head away pointedly. This didn't faze Hugo, however; instead he latched his lips to James' neck. James had to swallow a sound of pleasure that attempted to work its way from his mouth.

He almost jumped out of his skin when Hugo's wandering hands began pressing against his more-than-half-hard cock through his jeans. "Hugo," he said, trying to sound firm as he grabbed the younger boy's wrist. "Stop. We can't do this. We're cousins."

"We can do this," Hugo breathed, swinging one leg over both of James' so that he was straddling the older boy. "If you let me."

James wanted to protest again. He wanted to throw Hugo from him and storm out. He wanted to be _anywhere _but with this tempting boy.

But he remained where he was. Why? Because a part of him wanted this. It was the perfect situation, his traitorous mind whispered in a lecherous voice. He didn't have to _do_ anything inappropriate; Hugo was doing it all for him. His little cousin was coming onto him - which was what he'd desired for _ages_. Why was he protesting?

Hugo grabbed the hem of his own t-shirt and clumsily wriggled out of it to reveal a toned chest. James' protest died on his tongue as he took in the sight of his younger cousin's partly-bare body. He became aware that their groins were pressing against each other's and that both of them were hard.

Hugo slowly, gently, took James' wrist in his hand and placed it on his abdomen. Almost without James' permission, his own hands began to explore the smooth skin and developing muscles of his younger cousin. "Hugo," he whispered lowly… but this time it could hardly be mistaken for a protest.

Hugo leaned forwards slowly, shivering at the feel of James' hands running all over his chest. Their faces got closer and closer, and James looked up, anticipating the coming kiss.

This time it was more sensual; slow and gentle as though they had all the time in the world. Hugo's lips were like butterfly wings at first; fluttering against his own with barely-there pressure. It was still a little clumsy, and James brought his hand up to Hugo's face to steady him. The boy pulled back slightly and James grinned; his cousin was teasing him. He pressed forwards impatiently, and Hugo responded hungrily, slipping his tongue into James' mouth.

His hands wandered downwards until they were playing with the hem of James' shirt, alternating between stroking his stomach and slipping his fingers cheekily into his cousin's denim jeans. Soon he was fiddling with the button, his hands fumbling in his haste. James groaned and lifted his hips to make it easier. Morals were no longer anywhere in his mind; all he could thing about was the lust he felt for his cousin.

Finally he got the button undone. His hands slipped into the jeans beneath his underwear, tantalisingly touching the skin he found there, but avoiding James' aching cock. The eldest Potter groaned, wriggling in his seat in a bid to get more friction. Hugo just smirked and continued to remove the dark-haired boy's jeans.

By the time the pants were removed, James already had Hugo's halfway to the floor. Between them was only the thin fabric of their underwear and, as Hugo thrust his hips forward so that their arousals were grinding together, he thought it was probably the best thing he'd ever felt.

James' hands were all over his body, tweaking his nipples and rubbing any spot that made him moan and buck into James' hard body. His cousin's mouth was on his neck, sucking a sensitive spot that he didn't know he had. It would leave a mark, but Hugo didn't care. All that mattered was that he was almost completely naked, straddling his cousin, feeling the most intense pleasure he'd ever felt. He never wanted it to end.

Their moaning filled the room, becoming louder and louder as they approached orgasm. Hugo didn't want it to end so soon, but already his hips were moving erratically, clumsy from the alcohol, as the pleasure began to overwhelm him. "James," he moaned, trying to warn him.

James, however, was too wrapped up in his own pleasure. As Hugo said his name, he threw his head back and pulled Hugo's flushed body towards him and let out the sexiest whimper that Hugo had ever heard. Pleasure sparked through his body and James ground his covered cock into Hugo's more forcefully than ever. Both of their underwear were damp with precum.

"Hugo," James whispered in a slurred, strangled voice.

It was all too much for Hugo. He cried out as his orgasm rushed over him, hips jerking violently as he shot his seed into his pants. Above him, James paused his movements to watch Hugo's climax, liking how flushed his cousin's cheeks were and how hot his grunts were as he came.

Then, before the afterglow could set in, Hugo's hand dropped immediately to the bulge still prominent in James' underwear. The Potter let out a small "Oh" of pleasure as Hugo began palming his aching cock with one hand, and slipping off James' underwear with the other.

Soon James sat there in nothing but a shirt. His erection was weeping precum, red and swollen with need. Hugo's hands massaged the insides of James' open thighs, and the impatient boy wriggled in his seat as the Weasley teased him. "Please," he moaned, attempting to thrust his hips forwards.

"Please what?" Hugo smirked deviously, brushing his hand over the underside of James' heavy balls before returning to stroking the skin of his legs. "What do you need?"

"I need you to touch me," James panted, his cock twitching as he looked down at Hugo between his legs. The fact that his sight was a little fuzzy from the alcohol didn't make it any less arousing. "I need you to stroke me and grip me and tug me until I'm begging. I need to feel your touch until I can't take it any more and I'm coming a-"

Whatever James was going to say was lost as Hugo attacked his cousin's mouth. He'd only climaxed moments before, but after that graphic description that had spilled from his once-reluctant cousin's mouth, Hugo felt himself beginning to rise again. His hand moved immediately to James' aching erection.

He gripped it tight and James moaned into the kiss. His other hand moving to cup James' balls, rolling them around while massaging his hard cock earned another small sound of pleasure. Deft fingers slid over the red, weeping head, and James arched his back as Hugo massaged it firmly.

The amount of precum made lube unnecessary, and Hugo sped his movements up as James' whimpers told him he was coming closer and closer to orgasm. James was chanting Hugo's name like a mantra, running his hands through his cousin's soft red hair and across his smooth skin. A fire was building in his belly, one that was both the same and different to that which he felt when he did this alone. It was more, it was _better_… and it was shooting through him with such a force that he was physically shaking in his cousin's arms.

He came violently into Hugo's hands, ejaculating onto his cousin's abdomen. His moans never ceased; as he came down from his high with Hugo still stroking his organ, he realised he was still making soft sighs of pleasure.

"Good?" Hugo asked. James looked down into his cousins eyes that looked up at him with both uncertainty and sureness - if that was even possible. It was as though Hugo was confident, but still needed reassuring at the same time. And James, who was already beginning to feel the unease returning, could not deny his little cousin anything.

"Best thing I've felt. Ever," he told Hugo with a smile. His cousin grinned widely back, the emotion that James then recognised as fear disappearing from his face. His leaned up and planted a kiss on James' lips, which James didn't have the heart to pull away from.

"'M sleepy," Hugo said as he rested his head on James' chest.

"Well it's the Room of Requirement," James said. "Shut your eyes and then look around the room."

They both did so, and neither was surprised to see a four-poster bed magically spring up in the corner of the room. Hugo clambered up, taking James' hand and leading him to the bed, not even bothering to collect their clothes. He slipped under the covers and moved over to make room for James, who reluctantly slid in as well. Hugo wrapped his arms around his cousin's chest and, within minutes, began snoring.

James didn't fall asleep, although he would have welcomed the rest for his tired eyes. Instead he waited until he was sure that Hugo wouldn't wake, detached the red-head's arms from round his body, and carefully, without making a noise, got out of the bed.

He slipped on his clothes and hastily padded to the door, leaning on the wall for support. It occurred to him he may have drunken a little too much. Then, without looking back at his cousin's sleeping form, he slipped out the door.

What had he done?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This will be a multichapter, although I'm not entirely sure how long or what will happen yet.**

**Written for xNomii, because she's awesome and asked me to write this.**

**Beta: chronicxxinsanity**


	2. Chapter 2

**Higher and Higher**

**Chapter Two**

_Broken pieces of  
>A barely breathing story<br>Where there once was love  
>Now there's only me and the lonely.<em>

_Dancing slowly in an empty room_  
><em>Can the lonely take the place of you?<em>  
><em>I sing myself a quiet lullaby<em>  
><em>Let you go and let the lonely in<em>  
><em>To take my heart again.<em>

Christina Perri - The Lonely

When Hugo woke up the next morning and discovered James gone, he felt cold. Not physically cold - the duvet he was under was lovely and thick - but cold inside, like he imagined a Dementor would make him feel. And not just cold, but a little empty too; empty because James should have been there beside him.

He also had a nasty pounding going on inside his skull, but he suspected that was from the fire whiskey.

He stumbled out of the bed and spotted the crumpled pile of clothing lying on the floor over by the couch. Not James' clothing though; just his.

The clothes weren't exactly _clean_, but he struggled into them anyway. He had to pause partway through when a wave of nausea rolled over him. Finally, he managed to dress himself, and stumbled over to the door and asked the room (in his mind) to open into the secret side-room that he was so familiar with.

The hidden alcove had been discovered by Fred a few years ago. It was a small space that appeared to be - and felt like - a wall to those outside it, until you tapped the shin of the suit of armour next to it with your wand and walked into the apparent wall that was three steps to your left. It was a bit like the Kings Cross barrier; it never appeared to lead anywhere - you had to pass through what seemed to be a solid wall. It was unnerving, but useful. And, once you were on the other side, you could see everything in the corridor like there was nothing there, so it was an easy way to sneak out of the Room of Requirement without getting caught.

The concentration it took to get back into a Hogwarts corridor kept his mind off… _other things_ for a few moments, but as soon as he found himself in the warm, comforting light of the more commonly-used parts of the castle, everything came flooding back. He felt as though he couldn't breath, and questions swirled around and around in his head. Why had James left? What did it mean? Would his cousin ever speak to him again? Was their a rational explanation for his hasty departure, like Quidditch practice? If so, why hadn't he left a note?

No one was around yet - checking his watch, Hugo realised it was still six in the morning. That was a relief, as he was sure he'd look a mess. He needed to find a bathroom, or go to his dorms. No, scrap his dorms; there were insane Quidditch players sleeping there. No doubt they'd be going down to breakfast early so they could squeeze in half an hour of flying before class. He didn't want to run into anyone.

He began walking, wondering how he could get rid of this damned headache. He didn't have any potions for pain as he hadn't needed any recently, and he was far too young to need a hangover cure. Or, at least, he should be. One thing was certain; he definitely wasn't going to Madam Pomfrey.

He ducked into a bathroom. As expected, it was empty, and he made his way over to the sink. Looking into the mirror, he shuddered.

He was a mess. His skin was pale, his eyes baggy and bloodshot. His vivid hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in a week, and he ran his fingers through it. It didn't help a lot. Turning on the tap, he splashed water over his face. All it did was make him wetter than before.

_'Why had James left?'_he wondered once more, although deep down he thought he already knew. He wasn't sure whether to confront him, or give him some time. He wasn't sure whether or not he should give _himself _time. He hadn't been thinking last night, but he supposed at the time he'd had a half-constructed dream of him and James forming a secret relationship or having a deep heart-to-heart about their feelings.

He hadn't been expecting _this_.

Now he had to decide what to do. He should probably try to sneak up to the dormitory and get ready for class, but right now class was the last thing on his mind. He wished he still had the invisibility cloak - then he could go anywhere he wanted to.

That was the problem with having such a large family. The cloak, stolen from their father's study quite some time ago, got handed around so often amongst so many people that it was unlikely for anyone to be in possession of it whenever they actually needed it. If his memory served him correctly, Lorcan had it at the moment. Usually if he needed it, he'd just ask, but….

No, it was preferable to skulk around the castle and hope that no one notices.

He exited the bathroom and made his way to the nearest secret corridor. Once class had started, he could creep back up to his dorm and decide what to do next.

xXx

"There you are!"

The words made him jump out of his skin and he knocked over the inkwell that was sitting beside him. He swore and scooped it up, staining his fingers in the process. He looked up and glared at the intruder.

"Lily, what are you doing here?"

He should have known that if anyone would come looking for him, it would be Lily. For a second, when he'd heard her voice, he'd hoped it was James who'd come to find him. He'd hoped James had come to explain, or apologise, or even just to pretend it never happened. It was a stupid hope; his voice sounded nothing like Lily's, but he still felt a flash of annoyance towards Lily that she wasn't James.

"I could ask you the same question," she retorted, her eyes flashing. "You weren't in Herbology, or Transfiguration."

"So?" he asked. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was lunch. So he'd bunked four classes today. That was something new.

"So where were you?" Lily asked. "I asked Monique, and she said you weren't in your other two classes either. So don't pretend you went to them."

Lily had been sorted into Slytherin so, while she was in Hugo's year, she was only in some of his classes. But they were a tight-knit bunch, the lot of them, and Hugo should have realised he couldn't hide from her. "I wasn't going to pretend," he told her, trying to install some emotion that wasn't despair into his voice.

It worked, but not well enough. Lily gave him an appraising look and let out a sigh. She dropped into a sitting position beside him and looked at him sternly. "All right," she said firmly. "I know something's wrong. Spill."

Hugo avoided looking into her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything's fine."

Lily let out an extremely undignified snort. "That's bullshit. I can tell when you're lying."

"Since when?" Hugo challenged her.

"Since you got so crap at it. So about five minutes ago."

Hugo just looked away, and Lily let out a sound of frustration. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" she demanded.

"Why do you have to be so pesky?"

She shoved him playfully, and he shoved her back. She grinned and settled back into her cross-legged position, falling silent. She put her arm around his shoulder and he leaned into her awkward hug.

"How'd you know where to find me?" he asked, before belatedly realising how stupid the question was.

"Map," Lily said simply. Like the cloak, the map got handed around the rather large group so much that James and Albus often joked about making a second map for the purpose of locating the first.

They fell back into a comfortable silence, but eventually Lily stretched. "I have to get to class," she said. "Are you coming?"

Hugo shook his head. Lily frowned, clearly fighting the urge to say something. "Alright," she said eventually. "See you later then."

"Bye," Hugo murmured as she left. The secret door slid shut behind her with a final sound, and it reminded the Weasley of the closing of a tomb.

xXx

Unlike Hugo, James attended his classes, for all the good it did him. He'd had all of about two hours sleep the night before, and he welcomed History of Magic, where he could fall asleep like everyone else to the sound of Binns' droning voice. He didn't even care if he snored.

When the school day was over he grabbed his broom and headed directly to the Quidditch Pitch, despite the desire to just crawl into bed and slip into mind-numbing sleep. No one was using it - as expected - and he took advantage of the emptiness of the grounds to practice a move he was determined to pull off - the Wronski Feint. To be honest, he was pretty good at diving towards the ground and pulling out of it, but right now he wanted nothing more than to do it over and over again, revelling in the numerous times he could have smashed into the ground.

There were a couple of times where he wondered what it would be like to just keep going until it was too late to pull out. Just to let the ground hit him. He'd deserve it, after what he just did. Merlin, Hugo wasn't even of age! That was statutory rape. He'd raped his little cousin. His cousin.

_'I should just keep going,' _James told himself vehemently. _'I'd probably break several bones. It would hurt like hell. And if I wanted help, I'd have to either crawl to the castle myself or wait for someone to find me. There's no one around.'_

But despite these thoughts, he always pulled away from the ground just in time.

He spent so long out there that he missed dinner, and the sun began to set. The ground became difficult to see, and he knew it was more likely he'd crash in such terrible light. Maybe the night would do what he didn't have to guts to.

Still he continued, until a dark figure strode out across the ground. He didn't need her shout, "James, get down here!" to realise it was his bossy little sister. Lily had an extremely confident, bold stride and he'd yet to meet anyone who could mimic it.

He descended to the ground, touching down in front of her. "You weren't at dinner," she accused, her hands on her hips in a pose that reminded him scarily of their mother.

"I was practicing," he said.

The sun had almost completely set, but there was just enough light for James to see her purse her lips. "You need to talk to Hugo," she said suddenly.

"What? Why?" James asked, his surprise only half faked. Hugo hadn't said anything, had he? Surely he wouldn't be that thick?

"Because he's holed himself up in a secret room and hasn't come out all day. He won't tell me what's wrong, he hasn't been down to dinner or to any of his classes, and you're the only one he talks to when he's like this."

"He won't talk to me now," James said dismissively.

"You know what's wrong?" Lily asked quickly.

James hesitated. "I think I do," he lied. "And if I'm right, he won't talk to me."

Lily stayed quiet for a few minutes, and James knew that she was resisting the urge to ask what was wrong with him. Finally, she asked, "And if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," James said.

"You can at least try!" she burst out. "He's never done anything like this before! He hates missing _one_ class, let alone all of them. You're his _cousin_, James!" James flinched at that, and Lily noticed. Luckily, she seemed to think it was because he realised he should be trying to help. "He'll talk to you. I know he will," she finished, more gently.

"It won't do any good," James said stubbornly.

Lily glared at him once more, looking as though she was about to return to yelling, and James' braced himself for the scolding. But then she let out the huge breath she had drawn. For the first time, James understood how books could say people literally looked 'deflated'. All the fight went out of her, and she looked like she'd lost what little hope she had in him.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked softly. "There's something seriously wrong with Hugo, and you're supposed to care." Then, before James could answer, she turned away. He wanted to reach for her arm and stop her, or to fly beside her, or call her back. But what could he say? He couldn't tell her he _was _the thing wrong with Hugo.

He wanted to go back to flying, but even he knew when it was too dark. Instead he waited for Lily to get a good head start before following her back up to the castle. All the time, her words resounded in his thoughts.

_You're supposed to care. _

_'I do, Lily,'_ he thought to himself. _'If only you knew how much._'

xXx

Hugo touched the painted fruit lightly with the tips of his fingers - that was all it took these days. He'd spoken with Albus about it once, and the other boy had agreed; it had taken a lot more tickling when they first discovered the secret way to the kitchens. "I reckon," the Ravenclaw had speculated, "that the pear knows who we are now. It sees us and anticipates the tickling, and it works itself into a ticklish state so that we don't have to spend the time at the beginning doing it."

Hugo had told him he was an idiot, of course, and that his theory barely made any sense, but it had been the most logical explanation any of them had been able to come up with. Maybe he was on to something.

He'd been down to the kitchens so many times by now that he could do it blindfolded. In fact, one time he _had _done it blindfolded. Therefore, he no longer looked into the kitchen as he entered, choosing to keep his eyes on the ground before him where he knew the house elves would appear. He'd once made the mistake of standing on the foot of one of the more traditional elves, and he'd spent about twenty minutes begging it, reasoning with it, and finally forbidding it from harming itself because it'd got in his way.

That was why he was surprised to look up and meet a pair of sparkling brown eyes from across the room.

"Hugo," James whispered from where he was seated, putting down the slice of treacle an elf had given him.

"James." Hugo's voice broke a little.

**A/N: Sorry about the delay! I really should have written a few chapters before posting the first one. But never fear, exams are here! Which means I'm going to do a whole lot more writing as I procrastinate all the study I should be doing. **

**Please review!**

**Beta: The awesome chronicxxinsanity**


	3. Chapter 3

**Higher and Higher**

**Chapter Three**

_Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon  
>You come and go,<br>You come and go  
>Loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams<br>Red, gold and green,  
>Red, gold and green<em>

Culture Club - Karma Chameleon

* * *

><p><em>That was why he was surprised to look up and meet a pair of sparkling brown eyes from across the room. <em>

"_Hugo," James whispered from where he was seated, putting down the slice of treacle an elf had given him. _

"_James." Hugo's voice broke a little. _

There was a moment where neither of them moved. Actually, there were several achingly eternal moments. Hugo felt frozen in place, not sure what to say or do. This was supposed to be the moment where James made everything alright, but it was already obvious by the startled, panicked look on his cousin's face that it wasn't going to happen.

James broke the tense stalemate between them by standing up, pushing the stool back so clumsily that it scraped loudly on the stone floor. He winced visibly at the noise, and stepped around the table.

For one glorious second, Hugo thought that James was walking towards him. He was going to sweep him into a hug, or sit down beside him and they were going to talk, or, at the very least, James was going to acknowledge him. But then he saw James' gaze was fixed on the door, and his bubble of hope popped. Audibly.

He sidestepped so he was in James' path, blocking his way to the exit. "Don't. You. Dare." he growled dangerously, placing distinct emphasis on each word. Suddenly it no longer mattered that he'd spend the better part of the day crying over James. They were both here now; there was no way he was going to let James walk out that door just so that he could pretend that nothing every happened. Because it _did, _damnit. It _did_ happen.

"Hugo…," James said weakly. It was part statement, part request. Hugo had no idea what James was asking - it was possible that James didn't even know what he was asking. It didn't matter. This was going to be resolved.

"No," Hugo said firmly, the anger in his voice unmistakable. "_Sit_."

He gestured to a stool by the table. James looked as though he was going to argue, but then, to Hugo's surprise, and slight triumph, he did as he was bid. Hugo realised belatedly that there were still house-elves watching their exchange with interest.

"Dabbly," Hugo said, recognising one of the house-elves gathered around them, "do you think you and the other elves could give us some privacy?" House elves rarely talked to students, and they were not known to gossip, but there were others who came to the kitchens, and the elves would certainly not hide or lie about their conversation unless they were told to. It never paid to be cautious.

"Yes, Master Hugo," Dabbly said, his head bobbing comically. "Right away." He and the other elves scurried away, busying themselves with the cooking that was going on all around them. As an afterthought, Hugo cast a _muffliato _charm. Then he returned his attention to James.

He didn't have a clue what he was going to say.

James waited expectantly and Hugo felt the briefest trace of panic as he realised that he had to say _something_. It was always so confusing when he was around James. He could never form the words he wanted, could never stop the blush that raced across his cheeks when James threw his head back in throaty laugh. He'd often wished he could stop the warm, fuzzy feelings shooting through his body, and that, when he saw James walk away, he didn't feel nauseous just from wanting so, _so_ much that James had stayed with him.

"You left," he whispered finally. It hurt more than he could say that James' expression didn't even flicker.

"Hugo, don't do this," James pleaded, his voice steady and strangely blank. "Just… let me pass. We can just forget about what happened. You were drunk, I was drunk, and neither of us knew what we were doing. Put it behind you; move on."

Hugo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Move on? How could he? James had been all he could think about for years. And perhaps he wouldn't have had the guts to do what he'd done if he'd been sober, but he didn't regret a moment of it.

"How can you say that?" Hugo asked. "How am I supposed to forget? You're all I can think about. I-"

James cut him off. "You're fifteen!" he exclaimed loudly. "You're not even of age! _Merlin._"

James sunk further down into his seat, resting his head in his hands. He looked weary, stressed, and the fact that he was the cause of his cousin's anguish pulled at Hugo's heart. But when James raised his head, his expression was composed again.

"This can't go any further," he said bluntly. "Last night was a mistake. I'm sorry if you don't think so, but I'm ending this here. I'm going to go back to my dormitory soon, and after tonight we will never speak of it again."

He wasn't finished his spiel, but Hugo wasn't going to let him continue. "It wasn't a mistake! If this is about the age thing, or the cousin thing-"

James cut him off. "Well done, genius," he said scathingly, and Hugo flinched at the anger in his voice. It _was _anger; he refused to believe that it was hatred, no matter how much it sounded like it. It was, he convinced himself. Not hatred. Just rage. "I see you haven't taken your finger off the wand." His voice was cold, hard, and loud enough to drown Hugo out. The red-head felt his anger rising.

"It doesn't matter!" Hugo interrupted. They were both yelling now, trying to make their voices heard over one another. "None of it matters."

"It does to me!"

It was the first time James had actually stopped talking without Hugo having to cut him off, the Weasley noticed. Both of them were breathing heavily. At some point James had stood up; Hugo couldn't quite remember when. It was hardly important.

"You didn't take advantage of me," Hugo said in a softer tone, "if that's what you're thinking. I was willing - I was more than willing. I initiated it. You weren't in the wrong. And incest is only a problem when it comes to pro-creation. We're both male; it doesn't matter-"

But James was shaking his head. The corners of his mouth were turned up, but it wasn't his usual grin - more of a derogative smirk. It was directed at himself, Hugo realised, as though he was sneering at his stupidity.

"It does matter." His voice was hoarse, and he wasn't yelling any more. He was resigned. "You're fifteen. Even if you don't think I'm at fault, I am. I led you on. It doesn't matter how willing you were; what I did was wrong."

"But-"

James wasn't finished. "And us being cousins might not matter biologically, but morally, it's a big deal."

"Then we won't tell anyone," Hugo said desperately. James was stating facts as though he was making the closing statements for an intellectual debate. This conversation was ending, and Hugo couldn't let it. Not like this.

"It's still wrong!" James exclaimed, his voice rising once more. "It's still wrong," he repeated, quieter this time. "And it can't continue. I won't let it."

He stepped out from between the chair and the table and pushed his seat in, in a manner that said _this is my verdict. It is final._

"No, James, please don't…," Hugo said, tears building in his eyes. His chest was hurting again, and all he knew was he couldn't let this happen. He was begging, without knowing what he was asking for. A chance to keep talking, to keep trying to convince James? For James to consider their relationship? Anything but what was happening now?

A single tear rolled down his cheek. He hadn't managed to blink it away, although, to be honest, he hadn't been trying very hard. James averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hugo," he said. "But this. Ends. Here." He emphasised each of his words as though Hugo was a disobedient puppy that was being taught how to sit. Dark brown eyes met lighter ones, and they held. Hugo knew that James could see the tears he'd soon shed, and he silently pleaded that James would reconsider. But the other boy's gaze was firm.

Then, without another word, James strode past Hugo and out the kitchen door.

Hugo could hear his footsteps echoing through the corridors as James fled. He walked calmly, but he still fled, Hugo thought bitterly. Finally, the noises died and Hugo could hear James no more.

Then, and only then, did he allow the rest of the tears that were blurring is vision to spill over, trickling silently down his cheeks.

* * *

><p>Dawn found Hugo back in his dormitory, staring at the top of his four-poster bed. He'd got some sleep that night; more than he'd expected if he were honest. But he'd awoken once more, in a cold sweat caused from a dream he couldn't remember.<p>

Just because the images evaded him didn't mean he couldn't guess what it was about.

He was… numb, mostly. He didn't feel as heartbroken as he had the day before. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He felt like crap; as though James had pulled his still-beating heart from his chest, attacked it with a sledge hammer, and then shoved it back in and said, "It'll fix itself".

He'd felt a bit like that yesterday, too. But now it was more. He felt anger, that laced his hurt like poison laces firewhiskey. Anger at himself, for being so stupid and vulnerable, and anger at James for letting him and for not caring.

For not caring enough.

He also felt acceptance. Not the good sort of acceptance where you admit you have to shoulder your burden as you drag you and a heavy pack up an icy, high-altitude mountain. The type of acceptance where you resigned yourself to a lifetime of misery.

Things had gone so wrong. Up until last night, he'd nursed the hope that things might work out alright. Everything could still be okay. They'd had sex, of a sort, right? How could James just turn his back on that? They'd practically lost their virginity to each other.

And James had just walked away.

Hugo dragged himself out of bed at the appropriate time, trying to act like his limbs weren't weighted with lead. He waved off the inquiries from his dorm mates who all wanted an explanation for his disappearance off the radar for a night and a day. He shrugged it off and said he'd been "doing stuff", which was a more acceptable excuse than you'd think; this wasn't the first time he'd randomly fallen off the radar for a day or more.

Admittedly, last time he'd come back with a broken arm, a pet bowtruckle, and some very exciting stories about his antics in the forbidden forest.

But no one asked any further, and for the first time Hugo was glad that his best friend, Alex, had moved to some all-boys wizarding school in South America at the beginning of this year. His family had since become his closest friends, and without a best friend to care like only best friends can about where he'd been, he managed to escape with minimum questioning.

"Well?" Lily asked, before he'd even managed to take his seat at the breakfast table. "I looked on the map last night and I saw you talking to James. Did you two make up?"

He wanted to avert his gaze but that might have been too obvious. "Yeah," he said, collapsing into his chair. "All better now." He quickly looked away and busied himself with his toast. He knew that Lily's piercing gaze was observing him silently, and he glanced at her. "Honest," he said in response to her sceptical expression.

* * *

><p>Months passed. The colourful leaves that had been falling off the trees disappeared completely, to be replaced with the bare branches in preparation for the first snow. Hugo barely talked to James unless they had to and, although Hugo hated to admit it, the hurt did begin to fade. He didn't cry after that night in the kitchens, and as the time passed, he found that he wanted to less and less.<p>

He wasn't happy, though. Lily noticed, but eventually she stopped asking what was wrong. Albus, of all people, noticed, although he never said anything. But Hugo could tell, from the way he watched Hugo with a hawk-like gaze.

He felt like a part of him had been lost when James had rejected him. It was similar to how he'd felt after Alex had left; like he was constantly lost, and a part of him was missing.

He often wondered if James felt the same. Sometimes he caught his cousin looking at him, an emotion in his eyes that Hugo couldn't decipher. Was it love? Hurt? Regret? Longing? Disgust? Confusion? It could be anything. But whenever James realised Hugo had noticed, he looked away, and that told Hugo all he needed to know.

It was worse that they both knew James felt the same way towards Hugo. Maybe, if it had been the simple fact that his feelings weren't reciprocated that was keeping them apart, Hugo could have been able to accept it. But it was _killing_ him, knowing that they could be together if James would kindly remove his stubborn head from his ass.

Christmas came, far sooner than Hugo had anticipated. As well as finding presents for his enormous family, he also had the additional burden of deciding whether to go home for the holidays, or stay at Hogwarts where he wouldn't be subject to close proximity to James.

When he didn't see James' name on the 'remaining at Hogwarts' list, he chose to stay. To his surprise, he was not the only one in his family remaining behind.

"Scorpius is staying, too," Albus explained, when James asked why he wasn't going home. "His parents are out of the country on Ministry business. I said he could stay at ours, but I think it makes him a bit uncomfortable. Why aren't you going home?"

"Thought I'd use the library," Hugo shrugged. "It's always so busy during term."

He'd thought his acting was getting better, but Albus saw straight through him. "What's been up with you, lately?" he asked, sitting down beside him on the couch. Hugo had caught Albus on his way out of the common room, probably to meet up with Scorpius.

"I don't know what you mean. Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"It can wait." Albus' green eyes examined Hugo piercingly and he felt like a bug under a microscope. The younger boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and returned his gaze to the parchment and quill in his lap.

"There's honestly nothing wrong," Hugo tried again.

"I never said there was something wrong," Albus said. "Just that something was up."

"You implied that something was wrong," Hugo argued.

"No, I implied there was something you weren't telling me, such as a covert love affair. You confirmed there was something wrong when you denied there being something wrong. So I'm going to rule out "secret girlfriend", unless that secret girlfriend dumped you."

_This _was why no one even tried to match wits with Albus anymore. Even Rose had given up.

"There's no girl," Hugo said wearily.

"Hm," Albus mused. "A _boy_, maybe?"

"No!" Hugo said, a little too quickly. Albus' eyes shone, and Hugo realised he'd made a mistake. He changed tactics. "It's nothing to do with girlfriends _or _boyfriends. Why are you so fixated on romance? Is there something you're not telling me, _cousin_?"

Hugo watched Albus as carefully as the other had watched him, but Albus was better at this than he'd been. "Not at all, Hugo," he said smoothly, which of course made Hugo suspicious. "Don't change the subject. Now why would you keep this person a secret? Because they _are, _in fact, a boy, and you don't wish to disclose the details of your sexuality to anyone? Perhaps."

He seemed to be talking to himself, and Hugo sat there in silence. He could try to deny it, but what was the point? He'd never fool Albus, who'd learn the truth from him in moments. He should walk away now, before things got too deep.

But Albus was talking again, reasoning out loud. "So that explains why you're pining, but it doesn't explain why you're staying at school. So we must divide those reasons into two catagories: the first is that you want to be here, and the second is that you don't want to be at home."

Hugo watched Albus as he talked; partly in fear, partly in fascination. There was something amazing about watching Albus deduce something with logic, and usually Hugo just sat back and enjoyed the show. But he really wouldn't put it past the nosy Ravenclaw to figure out _exactly _what had happened.

"I can't imagine why you'd want to stay here, if the problem was you'd had a fight with your boyfriend. That means the problem must be that you want avoid being at home. So, you're avoiding someone. Out of those who aren't related to us and we would have seen frequently over the holidays, there is Lorcan or Lysander; Frank, if Professor Longbottom and Hannah had come around; Scorpius, if I'd been coming home; Hunter; and possibly Liam."

He paused for breath, before continuing just as quickly. "The last two are extremely unlikely, as I'm pretty sure they aren't staying with us, and all you'd have to do is hide in your room when they came over. I haven't seen you have any increased association with either Lysander or Lorcan, and Frank has a girlfriend. While it's possible that he may be secretly gay and in a relationship with you, I don't believe he'd have to callousness to disregard Emma's feelings enough to do so. In _none_ of the aforementioned boys have I noticed any dramatic changes of emotions, and certainly none that parallel yours-"

He halted suddenly, his eyes widening comically. "Thick," he muttered to himself. "Thick, thick, thick, thick, thick. I'm on the wrong track, aren't I?" His triumphant grin was wider than ever, and Hugo felt a flash of panic. He'd worked it out. He knew about James.

"I've been working on the assumption that a relationship _happened_," Albus said. "I jumped to conclusions too fast. You never confessed your feelings at all, did you? Your crush is still secret. Which means they _are_ staying at Hogwarts."

Hugo quickly schooled the relief off his face, just in time for Albus to look at him. "I'm right, aren't I?" he asked smugly.

Hugo made a split second decision and leapt up off the couch. "No!" he said, faking extreme distress in such a manner that he thought he should have won an award. "You don't know anything! Stop poking your nose where it doesn't belong!" And with that he strode out of the common room.

He walked until he could barely remember where he was. His breathing was faster than usual, and not because he'd been walking quickly. He rested his back against the cool stone of the corridor and slid down it, his head in his hands. That had been far too close for comfort, even if he was confident that he'd fooled Albus.

_For now,_ a traitorous voice whispered.

He knew it would not last forever. How long would it be before Albus noticed his strained relationship with James? How long before he figured them out?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry for the delay! My beta's gone AWOL, so I've had to post this without my trusty second set of eyes looking it over. Apologies for any mistakes this chapter may contain.**

**On a related note, if anyone would like the job of beta for this story, or for any of my others, send me a PM. I hate being betaless. **

**Also, you may notice that at some point in this chapter, Hugo states that he and James had sex. The definition of actual sex seems to very from person to person; I know some people think that unless thing A goes into slot B, it doesn't count. But basically if one person wanks another person off, or some variation thereof, I count it as sex. **

**Review?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Higher and Higher**

**Chapter One**

_'Cause when I'm with him I am thinking of you  
>Thinking of you, what would you do<br>If you were the one who was spending the night  
>Oh I wish that I was looking into your eyes<em>

Katy Perry - Thinking of You

Months passed. Winter turned to spring, and summer was fast approaching by the time matters came to a head. Hugo, in one of the few private conversations held between him and James, informed the older boy that Albus was watching him very closely; that he suspected something was up.

James wasn't exactly proud of his response. Telling his younger cousin to "Fucking make sure he doesn't notice anything," and storming off was probably not a great way to handle it, but James had screwed up this entire situation at every corner, so what was one more mistake to add to the list?

And he probably should have warned Hugo before he stood up during dinner over one of the holidays, announced to his entire family he was gay, and calmly sat down so he could continue finishing his roast lamb. Although no harm was done there; no one would have noticed Hugo's surprise or worry over the spectacle that followed (it turned out Teddy had had a year-long bet going with Lily, which James thought was really rather rude).

It therefore wasn't a surprise to most of the Potter-Weasley-Scamander clan when Rose burst into the common room one evening, her face flushed from running up three flights of stairs, yelling her head off about James snogging Mark Davies – who she'd had a claim to – in some abandoned broom closet.

Only Albus noticed Hugo's abrupt departure.

James only heard about it later, when Lily complained to him about the drama he'd caused. "Did you have to pick a bloke that Rose liked?" she'd moaned. "She's making such a _fuss_."

"Sorry to inconvenience you," he'd said, going for a playful tone, but barely managing not to snap angrily at her. "It's just that Hogwarts' pick of fit, gay blokes isn't exactly large, you know."

They'd been dating for a few weeks, and James knew that Mark wanted to go further. It wasn't like James had a problem with that, but he just wasn't particularly fond of the bloke. He wasn't a bad kisser, when James succeeded in not imagining that it was Hugo's lips he was kissing, and Hugo's body beneath him.

Mark was a nice person. He went on about muggle sports a little too much, and he didn't always get James' jokes, but he'd do. It was his body that James had a problem with; it was too muscled, too large, his hair wasn't red, his eyes were blue, and, basically, he wasn't Hugo.

But some things just couldn't be helped, and journeying to the next base with your boyfriend, who you were supposed to be really into, was one of those things. So James found himself in the Shrieking Shack one full moon, with Mark's hard, Quidditch-toned body moving against his – and really quite enjoying it.

They hadn't even got their shirts off and James was fully hard. Mark's hand was running itself all over James' body, pausing every now and then to tweak at his nipples. James' hand was palming Mark's hard cock through his jeans, and _fuck _it was hot to have him moaning like that in his ear.

He leaned up to nibble on Mark's (_'Hugo had liked that,'_ James remembered) and the other boy bucked uncontrollably into James' hand. "Oh, God, James!" he cried. James almost paused at the unusual phrasing – the majority of wizards didn't believe in a God, so it was therefore unusual for someone to invoke one as an exclamation. But he shrugged it off – Mark was muggle-born.

"Stop," Mark panted, although he didn't sound like he wanted it to stop. "Oh, God, stop! I'm- ah…." James knew what he was trying to say, and he did cease his ministrations. However, it was only so he could yank open Mark's buttons, pull down his fly and slip his hand into the other boy's pants.

Now, with only a thin piece of fabric between their flesh, Mark was practically writhing under James. His moans were loud and uncontrolled, and he was moving his hips frantically in time with James' stroked. "Ugh, I'm gonna come, James," Mark groaned.

James leant forwards, resting his cheek against Mark's. Before that, the boy had been throwing his head around in the throes of passions but, at the touch of James' flesh, it stilled, though his hips remained as mobile as ever. Their lips were so close, but they weren't kissing. James reached even further into Mark's pants so he was cupping the other boy's balls and massaged them slowly.

"Go on then," he whispered. Their faces were so close together that, when James talked, Mark breathed in the air he'd exhaled. There was something strangely erotic about it, especially when Mark let out a moan of pleasure at James' words.

The Potter then ran his lips along Mark's cheek until he reached the boy's ear and transferred his ministrations to his lobe, sucking on it a little. His hand returned to Mark's cock and, as he massaged the tip, he felt wetness squirt from it as Mark arched into his touch.

"Ugh," Mark moaned, his hips shuddering as he orgasmed. "James!"

James rubbed the heavy member faster as dampness began soaking through Mark's underwear. It made the whole thing damper, and more slippery – and rather erotic. He realised as he mouthed Mark's neck and palmed the boys softening member, that he'd just made a boy come in his pants. And he quite liked it.

'_I wish I could try that with Hugo.'_

The thought came before he could stop it. He stiffened – and not in the good way – before forcing himself to relax. He had Mark now. Mark, who'd made him so hard that he wanted to rut against this rickety bed until he came too. Mark, whose cock he was still palming idly.

He realised Mark was writhing under him, and that continuing to kneed his member, extremely sensitive from his orgasm, probably wasn't the most considerate thing to do. He pulled his hand away.

Small noises of pleasure were still escaping from Mark's mouth, and James felt rather proud of his abilities at lovemaking. He then winced at his choice of wording – he might be gay, but he wasn't a complete pansy. And he'd hardly call _this_ lovemaking; he felt nothing of the sort towards Mark, and the idea that Mark might feel that towards him barely bothered him. It was a good fuck, nothing else.

Although it wasn't such a great fuck right now, James thought, his attention returning to his demanding erection. He shifted uncomfortably, a movement that Mark noticed.

"Give me a minute," Mark said, regaining his breath (the boy really was quite vocal), "and I'll be ready for another round."

James nodded noncommittally. "In the meantime," Mark said, placing his hand on James' chest, causing his cock to twitch painfully, "how about we sort you out?"

In retrospect, it probably wasn't the most arousing thing Mark could have said. Madam Pomfrey quite often said to him after some sort of Quidditch injury, "Well, Mr Potter, let's sort you out now, shall we?" in that reassuring, matronly manner of hers. But, what with his rising libido, the smouldering way Mark was looking at him, and the boner in his pants, Mark could have said "Let's fly to Jupiter" and James still would have found it erotic.

"Merlin, yes!" James said, quickly reattaching his lips to Marks. His hands anchored themselves on Mark's hips, while the other boy's hands began fiddling with the zipper on in pants.

Their mouths met. It was wet and sloppy, and his kiss with Hugo was much nicer, but he wasn't thinking about that. He moaned and managed to wriggle out of his pants.

Looking down, his and Mark's eyes met. The other boy's hands were on his hips, thumbs tucked into his underwear. He was silently asking permission, and James nodded.

Everything became a bit of a blur after that. The sensations, the arousal; at one point he looked down to see Mark with his cock in his mouth, and almost came there and then.

But eventually he felt his climax building. "Ngg," he moaned, attempting to warn Mark. "Oh! Yes!"

He can only blame what happened next on extreme arousal, and being so caught up in the moment that he forget where he was. His orgasm rushed through him, and he felt his limbs twitch involuntarily with the pleasure of it.

"Yes! Hugo!"

He knew, as soon as the words came out of his mouth, the mistake he'd made. He looked down as Mark pulled his mouth from James' cock as though it'd suddenly become red-hot. "Hugo?" the boy asked, disgust evident in his voice.

And then James made his second mistake of the night.

Without even thinking, he reached behind him to where their wands were lying. Mark didn't even realise what was coming. Perhaps he didn't relate the action to being attacked. Maybe he didn't believe that James would cast a spell on him. Or, most likely, it all just happened too fast.

"Obliviate!" James cried.

Mark flew backwards with the force of his spell, hitting his head hard against the wall behind them. James stared at his unmoving body for a moment, before grabbing his pants and wand. He stumbled out of the room, pulled his pants on, and made his way unsteadily through the tunnel leading back to the school.

xXx

Almost everyone was asleep when he got back to the dormitory; the only people still up were a couple of fifth years and a seventh year in the common room. They looked up as he tripped ungracefully through the portrait hole, but returned to their homework. He rushed up the stairs and, as quietly as possible, slipped into his dorm.

He didn't know when he consciously made the decision, but within moments the lid of his trunk was flung open, and he was rummaging around in the chaotic mess. It took a while; the small back was right at the bottom, buried beneath several layers of rubbish. But finally he pulled out what he was looking for – a small bag of floo powder.

He couldn't do it in the common room – there were people there. Besides, he wouldn't be surprised if the teachers had blocked the student's fires. At the very least, they'd probably be watching them.

It hadn't been the first time he'd broken into a teacher's office. He was lucky they didn't have their fireplaces where they slept, he thought, as he snuck into Professor Longbottom's study. He chose Neville's because he knew him, and if he was caught, Neville probably wouldn't turn him into McGonagall.

He threw the powder onto the flames and whispered quietly, "Seventeen B, Sparrows Lane, Essex."

When he stepped out of the fireplace, he felt a wand at his throat. "Teddy," he whispered, frightened he was about to be cursed. "It's me! It's James!"

The wand retreated immediately, and a warm hand pulled him off the hearth. "Sorry, James, auror's paranoia."

"That's okay."

Teddy guided him to the sofa and sat him down. "What are you doing here?" he asked, worried. "Is everything all right?"

"No," James whispered. "Teddy, I've done something awful, and I don't think I can fix it."

And Teddy, like James knew he would, wrapped his arm around the younger boy's shoulder and allowed him to bury his head in his warm, comfortable, flannel pyjamas. "Shh," he murmured comfortingly, even though James wasn't making any noise. "Tell me what's wrong."

He waved his wand, and James found a steaming cup of tea was pushed into his hand. "I was… I was having sex… with this boy… and I said someone else's name when I… you know… and…,"he paused to take a deep breath. "And now everything's so messed up…."

"Just tell him you're sorry," Teddy said. "Say you didn't mean to. Or, if you don't really like this boy, break up with him."

"It's not just that," James whispered. "There's more. I… after I… said it… I wiped his memory."

"You _what_?" Teddy practically yelled, leaping off the sofa. "James, you idiot! Don't you know how dangerous that can be! You'll be lucky not to get expelled!"

"I know, Teddy, I know." James was crying now, because he'd hoped Teddy would hug him and come up with a brilliant solution and make everything better. "It knocked him out, and he was unconscious, and I just left him there…. Oh God, what if he's dead? What if my spell killed him?"

"Left him where?" Teddy asked sharply.

"Shrieking Shack," James muttered. Teddy appeared to think about it for a moment.

"He'll be fine for a while, then. I'm sure you haven't killed him; that would take a lot of magic. But James, why would you do something like this?"

"I said… someone else's name."

"It's not that big a deal, James. Nowhere near big enough to warrant obliviating someone. That was extremely irresponsible!" Teddy sounded furious, which made the tears streaming down James' face fall harder. "You could have damaged his mind permanently!"

"It was Hugo's," James said, before he could stop himself.

"It was what?" Teddy sounded confused.

"It was Hugo's name, that I said."

Teddy was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Was it… an accident?"

"Of course it was an accident!" James exclaimed. "Do you think I'd be stupid enough to do it on purpose?"

"That wasn't what I meant," Teddy admonished. "Was it a slip of the tongue, or do you actually feel that way about Hugo?"

"What does it matter?" James asked bitterly. "Either way, Mark would have taken it to mean I was in love with Hugo."

His refusal to answer the question told Teddy all he needed to know. "Right," Teddy said. "Right. We can't restore his memory, because otherwise he'll remember what you said as well as you wiping his memory. We'll have to go to the Shack, though, so I can make sure there's no permanent damage."

He seemed to be talking more to himself than to James, but James couldn't believe his ears. "Are you… are you going to help…?"

"Help you cover it up, yes," Teddy said. "Merlin knows why, but I don't see this working out well for you if we don't. Come on, we have to move. We don't want him waking up before we get there." He grabbed James' arm and, before he could say "Droobles best-blowing bubble-gum," they were standing at the fence from where people viewed the shrieking shack at a distance.

"Um, Teddy?" James asked. "How is this supposed to help us? Don't we need to be in Hogwarts to get to the Shack?"

"I know a secret passageway," Teddy told him, winking.

The air was cold, and James shivered as Teddy turned around and walked over to an extremely large only a few metres from the fence-line. James watched with interest as Teddy tapped the tree and muttered a word under his breath.

Before their eyes, a door appeared in the tree. Teddy pushed it open and stepped through, having to duck his head as he did so. "Well, come on then," he said impatiently to James, who was gaping at him. "We don't have all night."

James followed Teddy hurriedly through the secret entrance way. The trip was surprisingly short; even though the Shack seemed ages away, they reached the end of the tunnel in mere minutes. A door appeared, and they stepped out into a room that James recognised. The door snapped shut behind them and, when he turned to look at it, it had disappeared.

"Which way?" Teddy asked. James, rather than responding, took the lead, guiding Teddy to the room where Mark was.

The boy was still out cold, lying on the floor with his eyes shut. Teddy wasted no time, immediately crouching down next to him. It concerned James that the first thing he did was check for a pulse but, when Teddy sat back with a sigh of relief, he realised that Mark must still be alive.

Teddy took his coat off and laid it over Mark. Then he pulled out his want at pointed it at the boy. "Legilimency," he murmured.

Teddy was silent for a while, and still to the point of it being creepy. But soon he pulled back.

"I couldn't see any damage in there," he said. "Mind you, I'm not all that skilled. He doesn't remember you wiping his memory, and he doesn't remember you two having sex."

James breathed out a sigh of relief. "So what do we do now?

Before Teddy could answer, Mark opened his eyes. "Wha-" he said, when he saw Teddy leaning over him. "What happened?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Higher and Higher**

**Chapter 5**

_Arm in arm, dusk to dawn,  
>With the curtains drawn,<br>And a little last night on these sheets,  
>So how come when I reach out my fingers,<br>It seems like more than distance between us?_

Rihanna - California King Bed

"Don't move," Teddy advised the boy. "You've had a nasty knock."

"I have?" Mark asked blearily. "How'd I do that?"

James glanced worriedly at Teddy, but the man didn't even blink. "We're not sure," he said. "James found you on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. What were you doing there?"

"I-" Mark began, and then stopped. "I don't know."

Teddy appeared concerned. "I'm afraid you must have hit your head. We would take you to the hospital wing but…," he paused for a moment. James had to admire the fluidity with which the Metamorphagus lied. Teddy continued. "Well, you were found on the edge of the Forest. I'm not sure why you were in there, but I doubt the teachers would be pleased that you were in there."

"Yes, yes, you're quite right," Mark said, still in a daze.

James was amazed with how easily he was swallowing the story. Teddy needed to _teach _him that. Mark looked completely out of it, but it was still pretty cool that Teddy had made him accept the lies with such ease.

Perhaps "completely out of it" was a judgement made too soon, James realised, when Mark blinked and asked with curiosity, "but why are you here? Who _are _you?"

James held his breath, but Teddy had it all under control. "I was visiting Hagrid," he said. "He was my favourite teacher when I was student here, and I know James' parents, so when he saw me leaving the cabin, he came and got me. It's a good thing he did, too; the teachers probably would have caught you otherwise."

Mark nodded. "Thanks," he offered.

Teddy smiled. "You'd best get back to your dormitory before your absence is noted. Can you walk?"

Mark attempted to stand and, other than a small wobble, managed quite well. "It appears I can," he said, sounding surprised by this. Had the situation been less serious, James might have smiled at that.

It took a while, but eventually they reached the castle. There was one moment where Teddy looked concerned, when Mark seemed to forget everything that had happened since he woke up, and stood in the middle of the path looking extremely lost. But he soon remembered, and they managed to pass it off as a lingering effect of the concussion.

Once they reached the castle doors, Teddy halted. "I won't go any further," he said, under his breath so that only James could hear. "I don't want to be caught inside the castle; it's too difficult thinking of a reasonable explanation for being there. Take Mark back to his dormitory and let him sleep. You won't know what his mind will remember as fact and what will be fiction to him until he wakes up."

James nodded, and glanced at Mark. The boy was examining the hinge of the large doors as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. He winced.

Teddy saw the wince, and his hard expression gentled. "A note for next time; don't perform a memory charm on someone until you know what you're doing. I'm surprised that Mark over there can even remember who he is."

"There won't be a next time," James mumbled, lowering his head in shame.

"Good to hear it," Teddy said briskly. "And James…," James looked up at his older friend. Teddy's eyes had changed to stormy grey; a bold contrast to the usual warm, honey-brown colour he preferred. "Break up with him," Teddy told James, jerking his head in Mark's direction. "I won't pretend to know exactly what you're going through, but I can assure you that you're dealing with it the wrong way."

James accepted his advice without a word of complaint. He could hardly claim he was fine; not after tonight.

"And…," Teddy began hesitantly, before stopping. "James… if you need someone to talk to, you can always come to me. I'd rather we had a soap-opera moment than have you turning up at my place in the middle of the night with a situation like _this _again."

James tried to smile, but it fell flat. "Thank you," he tried instead.

Teddy clapped him on the back and pushed open the door. "Go on," he said, "before someone realises you're missing."

James knew that wasn't likely, but he did as Teddy advised. Touching Mark on the shoulder gently to get his attention as he passed, he nodded at the door and Mark wandered absentmindedly through it. James followed and, when he turned back for one final glance at Teddy, he saw the young man had already begun striding back across the Hogwarts grounds towards the Shack.

He closed the door with a sigh, and went to retrieve Mark, who was wandering towards the dungeons.

After the horrific events of the night, James wanted nothing more than to get up to the dormitory and go to sleep. However, he was unprepared for the person waiting for him in the common room.

"What are you doing up so late?" Hugo asked James from the red-and-gold sofa he was sitting cross-legged on. James yelped at the sudden voice.

"Hugo? What are you doing up?" Then he remembered the boy was a Ravenclaw. "What are you doing _here_? Go back to your own common room!"

"Not even going to pretend to be civil now?" Hugo asked, a bitterness that James had never heard before shadowing his voice. "Not even in front of your boyfriend there?"

James glanced at Mark, who was looking blankly at a portrait of a drunk witch. He touched the boy on the shoulder again. "Go to bed, Mark," he said gently. Mark nodded and obeyed him.

"What's with him?" Hugo asked suspiciously. "He looks like you've imperio'd him."

James didn't bother to correct his cousin's terrible use of language. At least if he _had _cast the _imperius_ curse on Mark, the effects wouldn't be permanent. James had no idea when the negative consequences of the memory charm would wear off.

"It would have been a better idea," James said dully, collapsing on the couch beside his cousin. "You never said what you were doing here."

"You don't have to say what _you're_ doing up so late," Hugo said, all but ignoring James' comment. "Shagging lover-boy, were you?" The bitterness, that had temporarily disappeared when he was observing Mark's odd behaviour, returned with full force. "What makes him good enough for you and not me?"

"He's not related," James replied.

Hugo snorted. "If you must know, I'm hiding from Albus. I caught him… _snogging_… Scorpius in the Room of Requirement, and he's trying to track me down and make me promise not to tell anyone." The way he said 'snogging' made James wonder if that's all the pair had been doing.

"And you chose the Gryffindor common room for this?" James asked. Once he would have cared that his little brother was gay, and involved with Scorpius, who he'd never been that fond of. Now, he simple stored it away for later consideration.

"Rose just told me the new password this afternoon," Hugo said offhandedly. "I don't think anyone's told Albus yet."

"It's a bit of a risk," James said.

Hugo ignored him. "What's with you? Usually you'd be up in arms about Albus and Scorpius."

"Bad night."

"Is that why your boyfriend's a zombie?"

"Yes."

Hugo had been speaking to James, but not looking at him. He glanced over now to see the Gryffindor with his head buried in his hands.

"James?" he asked. "What happened?"

And so James told him.

* * *

><p>Neither of them were sure how it happened. In real life, James mused, people didn't just wind up <em>having sex<em>. It was planned; at the very least, the couple were going out. Their first time in the Room of Requirement was a bit of an exception, James had speculated. After all, the main reason why sex didn't _just happen_ was there was absolutely no privacy in Hogwarts.

That, of course, didn't explain how dawn found him next to a very naked Hugo, playing with the boy's vivid red hair and trying to urge life back into his muscles – that were very relaxed now they were in that dreamy, post-orgasmic state that plagued James for hours after sex.

Hugo wasn't so comfortable. This time, he didn't fall asleep afterwards. Maybe it was because he remembered what happened last time he did that. Maybe it was because, James thought, he was finally realising just how wrong _this_ was. James didn't know.

They were back in the Room of Requirement.

"_Come on," Hugo had said, pulling insistently on James shirt. Their breathing was heavy and fast, and James would have flown to Africa at that moment if Hugo had asked it of him. He just wanted those lips back on his body. "Room of Requirement. Let's go." _

Both of them had forgotten that Albus was looking for Hugo. Neither of them would have cared anyway, not in their state. As it turned out, it didn't matter.

James finally gathered the strength required to pull himself up on one elbow. He looked into Hugo's stony face and felt a pang of regret. The younger boy already knew what was coming if his expression was anything to go by. "Hugo," he began.

"Fuck you."

The words with whispered with such venom that James was taken aback. He hadn't even said anything yet, James thought indignantly. He could have been about to proclaim his undying love, for all Hugo knew. Of course, he hadn't been, but that wasn't the point.

"What-" he began, but he never got the question out.

"Fuck you," Hugo repeated. "For what you're about to say. You're going to do exactly the same bloogy thing!"

"How would you know?" James shouted back.

"Were you?" Hugo challenged. James hesitated, which gave Hugo his answer.

"You think you can just fucking use me, don't you?" Hugo spat at James. The Potter was shocked at Hugo's swearing; he'd never heard his cousin use such language, especially not so much of it at one time. "You go on and on about how what we're doing is wrong, but only when it suits you. When you want a quick, comforting shag, it's all fine, isn't it?"

"Hugo-"

"You're pathetic, you know that? You think you can just do whatever the hell you want because your James Potter and everything works out fine for you. Even saying your cousin's name while you have sex with your boyfriend works out in the end, because you just illegally wipe his memory and get Teddy to clean up the mess!"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Like fuck it wasn't!" Hugo was climbing to his feet now. James did the same, not comfortable with having the furious boy towering over him. "You just wander in, thinking you can shag me whenever you like- thinking you can shag anyone whenever you like! I've spent _months_ pining after you. You broke my heart!"

"Hugo," James tried to interrupt again.

Hugo's eyes flashed. "Don't," he said. "You broke my heart, and I was finally piecing it back together, and then you come back and screw it up."

"And you think this doesn't hurt me at all?" James challenged. "You think I _like _this?"

"You seemed to like it last night," Hugo spat out. "And I'm not the one who keeps screwing their cousin and then telling them to piss off!"

"It's for the best! We can't _be _together!"

"We just were, dumbass! You didn't have a problem with it then."

"And I was wrong-"

Hugo cut him off again. "No, _this_ is wrong. You doing this is wrong. _We_," Hugo took a step towards James, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him gently so his back was against the wall, "are _right_."

And then he pressed his lips to James', his mouth open and his tongue already seeking entrance. James resisted, but only for a moment.

When Hugo pulled away, James made a keening sound at the loss of Hugo's mouth. Both boys' breaths were coming out in pants, and Hugo was looking at James with a strange combination of desire and disgust. He released James and stepped back. "The only thing fucked up about this relationship is what you keep doing," he said softly.

Before James could think of a reply, Hugo was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am honestly not meaning to drag this thing out. I'm torn between wanting to finish this, and wanting to put all this plot in here. It's very frustrating. It's as much that issue as it is my exams that are causing the delay. **

**Please review. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Higher and Higher  
><strong>**Chapter 6**

_'Cause trying not to love you, __  
><em>_Only goes so far, __  
><em>_And trying not to need you,__  
><em>_Is tearing me apart,__  
><em>_Can't see the silver lining,__  
><em>_from down here on the floor,__  
><em>_Cause trying not to love you,__  
><em>_Only makes me love you more._

Nickelback – Trying Not To Love You

James was ten types of idiot. He knew Hugo thought that – he knew Hugo had thought that all along. But now he knew it too, and it made him want to punch himself.

He remembered when he was quite little and his Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey had split up. He'd asked his father why, and his father said that his Aunt had done something quite bad, and Uncle Percy didn't want to be with her anymore. Looking back now, he realised his Aunt had been having an affair, but he could remember the conversation he'd had with his father.

"_If she's done something bad, she should just say sorry," James said, with all the wisdom of a six year old. "That's what I had to do when I broke Albus' toy."_

_He was lying in bed, and his father had just finished reading him a bedtime story. He felt a hand run gently through his hair as he snuggled down into the blankets. "Some things are too bad for an apology to mend," Harry told him._

_The six year old boy frowned. "Then how do you fix them?" he asked._

"_Sometimes you can't," Harry said._

_James closed his eyes, and he felt his father rise off the bed. But before his father left the room, he said sleepily. "That's silly. When I'm a grown-up, I'll never not accept an apology." _

He hadn't seen his father's smile as he extinguished the light on his wand, but looking back now, he knows his father must have grinned at his son's innocence. He didn't smile at the memory, though, because an action that was too bad for an "I'm sorry" to fix wasn't an amusing thing now that he _was_ his Aunt Audrey.

He knew he had to apologise, but he also knew that it wouldn't make up for what he'd done. If Hugo had any sense at all, he wouldn't accept it, and he'd send James packing. After all, James thought, it's probably what he himself would do if the situation was reversed.

He hadn't realised how shit he'd treated Hugo until the Weasley had taken a stand. Now, he wanted to put it right, at least as much as he could.

And although he wasn't looking forward to being shot down, as he was almost certain would happen, he knew it would be a relief. Because then they could put this mess behind them, and they could move on with their lives.

At least, he hoped.

One thing was certain, though. After today, after Hugo told him to fuck off and never touch him again, James couldn't let history repeat. What had happened last night could never, _ever_ happen again. This time, James would make sure of it.

Finding Hugo was harder than he expected. He searched the castle, asking everyone he saw if anyone had seen the red-head, before giving up and fetching the Marauder's map off Molly. To James' frustration, even then he wasn't on there, which meant he was either in Hogsmeade or the Room of Requirement.

He watched the map for an hour or so, before his mischievous nature won over and he decided to see what Albus and Scorpius could _possibly _be doing in a cleaning closet. When he found out, he wished he'd entered the cupboard-like room with his eyes closed and his ears blocked.

He fled the scene, barely hiding his gleeful grin at the knowledge that he had one over on his little brother. However, Albus soon caught up with him, and the price of that knowledge was a half-hour lecture on keeping the information to himself. "Scorpius needs to tell his father," Albus explained. Then he hesitated. "And I guess I need to tell Dad."

"Well I've already laid the path for you, haven't I?" James asked. "All we need is for Lily to start crushing on girls and we'll have the whole three."

Albus narrowed his eyes. "It's not a joke," he said, annoyed. "Dad freaked when you told him."

James considered this. "To be fair," he answers slowly, "I think it was more my timing that he had a problem with, rather than my sexuality."

Albus shrugs, but James sees through his feigned nonchalance. "You're actually worried, aren't you?" he asked. He doesn't want to have this conversation – he wants to be checking the map for signs of Hugo – but he can hardly abandon his little brother in times of need.

He conveniently forgot the time he buried Albus up to his head at the beach and forgot about him as the tide came in.

"It's all right for you," Albus replied. "You _liked_ the attention. You basked in the excitement of having everyone talking of you and nothing but you for the next few days. That's who you are."

Albus was talking quickly now, and James was surprised to hear the fear in his voice.

It was easy to forget that Albus was, in fact, his younger brother and not a teenager of the same age as him. While the green-eyed boy had been easy and fun to tease when he was a child, it hadn't been long after he'd come to Hogwarts that he'd grown more confident, cleverer and slightly more aloof. James had always put it down to his newfound friendship with Scorpius, which was just one of the reasons why he'd resented the Malfoy for so long. It was impossible not to notice what the three qualities Albus gained more of were descriptors that fit the blonde perfectly.

However, when James looked at his brother now, the face that looked back at him was that of the eleven-year-old who was so afraid that he'd be put in Slytherin.

"Al," James said gently, "you don't have to do it like I did. If you don't want to draw too much attention, just do it quietly. You could probably just tell Mum and Dad, and they'd spread it around the rest of the family if you asked them to."

"You think?" Albus asked.

"Yeah," James said. "And besides," he added, grinning, "it's not like anyone would be surprised. After all the time you spend with Scorpius…."

"We're not that obvious!" Albus protested. Then he hesitated. "…Are we?"

James just grinned and turned away. After all, he hadn't been able to properly mess with Al's head since he was little. He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity.

His conversation with Albus must have taken up more time than he thought, because when he checked the map next, Hugo was back in his dormitory. He headed to Ravenclaw Tower immediately.

How Albus and Scorpius beat him there, James would never know. They managed it, however, and when James entered the common room they were already seated on a couch, pouring over a piece of paper with their hands just a little too close, if you paid enough attention to notice.

Albus looked surprised. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

James pointed to the map. "Looking for Hugo," he said.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "So that wasn't just an excuse to burst in on us?" he asked sceptically.

James laughed, because it had been a little, and smoothly lied, "Of course not. I had no idea you two would be doing _that_, did I?"

Albus didn't look convinced, but he accepted the lie. "Hugo's in his dorm," he said.

James gestured to the map again. "I know," he said.

Scorpius had been watching this exchange silently, his eyes narrowed. It wasn't uncharacteristic of the blond, but it always sort of creeped James out when he went silent. It was even more unnerving when he realised that Scorpius' eyes kept occasionally flicking from the doorway up to the dorms and back to James.

He shrugged it off and headed towards the staircase. His backed was turned, so he missed Scorpius leaning over and murmuring something in Albus' ear. Albus let out a small laugh, which faded immediately when he noticed the serious expression on his boyfriends face. He shook his head and frowned; a frown filled with uncertainty.

Hugo was lying on his bed, book in hand, when James entered the dorm. His curtains were the only ones open, and James quickly checked the map to make sure they were alone. To his relief, they were.

"Hugo, we need to talk," James said. He wondered how many times he'd said those exact words over the past few months.

"Haven't we talked enough?" Hugo asked, but it wasn't a question he needed an answer for. He put his book down on the table and turned to look at his cousin.

James felt like a prat, standing awkwardly beside the bed. He sat on Hugo's closed trunk, marvelling at the fact that he _could;_ James had shoved all his things in his trunk so that he couldn't shut the lid. It made packing for the holidays a real hassle.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You're sorry?" Hugo asked. Before James could answer, he continued, his voice heavily layered with sarcasm. "Oh, well that's okay then. You should have said so before; that would have made everything alright. I mean, what thing can't be fixed by an apology? We might as well kiss and make up, if you're _sorry_."

James winced. "I know I deserved that-" he said, before Hugo interrupted.

"Yeah, you did."

"And I know you're angry with me. I don't blame you; hell, _I'm _angry with me. I was a prick, Hugo, and I really am sorry. It's not much of an excuse, but I honestly didn't realise how much of a dick I was being until you yelled at me this morning."

"Not much of an excuse? It's not an excuse at all!"

"No, it's not. I fucked up, badly, and I know it. But I can make it right!"

"Can you?" Hugo was looking at James coldly. "Can you really?"

"I can try," James said. "If you'll let me."

"And what if I don't let you?" Hugo asked.

"Then I'll walk out that door," James replied. "And I'll never speak about this again. We can pretend this never happened, and life will carry on."

Hugo was quiet for a moment. "I don't want that," he said in a small voice.

James let out a silent breath of relief. "Neither do I," he admitted. "It's the last thing I want."

"But I don't want to be hurt again. I don't want you to do what you did before."

"I know," James said. "I can't promise that I won't ever hurt you again. But I can promise that I won't keep repeating the same mistakes."

Hugo looked down at his hands. "How can I believe that?" he asked.

James wanted to reach forwards and hold those hands, but he wasn't sure whether that would be okay with Hugo. "You'll just have to trust me. You trusted me once."

"And look where that got me."

"I'm sorry."

"So you keep saying." There was a pause, and then Hugo said, "Prove it then."

"Huh?" James asked.

"Prove that I can trust you. Prove to me that I can believe what you say."

James had to take a moment before he realised what Hugo was saying. He couldn't believe that he was going to get this third (or was it fourth) chance, after everything.

He didn't want to blow it.

He reached out and took Hugo's hand in his, rubbing his thumb tenderly over the pale flesh. He wanted to keep going, to touch every bit of Hugo's body, but he dare not. He couldn't even risk kissing him. "Not here," he whispered.

Hugo didn't need to ask where. They headed straight for the Room Of Requirement, which James was beginning to realise he had greatly underappreciated until now. They walked so closely that occasionally their skin would brush together, and James had to remind himself that even under normal circumstances it was indecent to rip someone else's clothes off in the middle of a well-trafficked hallway.

By the time they reached the room, James was aroused and filled with desire. It only took one glance at Hugo to know that he was too. He wanted nothing more than to throw him on the bed and fuck him into the mattress, and if past experience was anything to go by, Hugo probably wouldn't mind it either.

But James stopped himself. _Prove that I can trust you_, Hugo had said. And while ferociously great sex was a bonus in a relationship, James couldn't help feeling that he should be taking every chance he was given to prove that he could live up to his word.

So instead of tearing Hugo's clothes of in a fit of passion, he gently pulled the smaller boy towards him. Instead of sticking his hand straight into Hugo's pants, he gently rubbed circles on his arm while he kissed him slowly.

They'd had sex twice now, and it was worth noting that during those times, the phrase "fucking like rabbits" was probably extremely appropriate. But not the third time.

The third time, they made love.

It wasn't the speed and the excitement of the touches that got James hard that night, it was the expression of pure pleasure on Hugo's face. It wasn't the friction that got him off that time, but Hugo himself; beautiful, perfect, Hugo, who James didn't deserve at all.

They crawled beneath the sheets when they were done, not even caring that they hadn't cleaned themselves up properly. "I like your way of apologising," Hugo murmured sleepily.

"Then you should never forgive me," James replied. "And I'll have to apologise to you over and over again."

"I can't stay mad at you, though," Hugo replied. "Could never stay mad at you."

"Then maybe you'll have to apologise to me sometimes."

Hugo giggled, and wrapped his arms around James even tighter. The lights in the room dimmed, and James shut his eyes contentedly.

This was far from the end, he knew. If this was to work, they had ahead of them a lifetime of secrets and hiding and lies – anything to keep others from finding out about this. But, even thought everything would have been much easier if he'd just allowed Hugo to continue hating him, James found he wasn't sorry.

Because it all seemed a lot easier when he looked down at the sleeping form beside him and remembered what he'd be doing it for.

**The End. **


End file.
